“So cynical, aye.”
“So been in your shoes.”
“And speaking of shoes,” he gestures an open palm to me, “is the gift card Mari and the kids dropped off enough to buy you at least onedecent– non sales rack – pair? I noticed you’ve been wearing heels more. Figured you might like to add to your collection.”
“I have been wearing them more often.” A tiny pause is taken. “You know. When I’m not in scrubs.”
“Noticed you’ve had a change in those too. More colors. More fun prints. Shit ton more music themed ones.”
What can I say?
Thayne loves to spoil me with music things.
Just last week he got me a coffee warmer for my desk that looks like an old record player.
“Your boy’s doing?” M slyly asks prompting me to shift uncomfortably in my leather seat.
“In regards to the shoes or the scrubs?”
“Both.”
“I’ve actually alwayslikedwearing heels. I just recently stopped giving a shit how other people feel about me towering over them.”
“And the scrubs?”
“They’re cute!”
“But my tie isn’t?”
“Your tie is burning my retinas, Coach.”
Loud chuckles are accompanied by a headshake. “You sound like the boys.”
“I should,” leaves me in a playful tease. “I’ve spent enough time around them between being at their games and them being in my office.”
He lets the corner of lips curl upward. “What about the boyfriend?”
Fear ruthlessly grabs me by the face.
“He like hockey?”
“Yeah,” guilt lowers my volume, “he…loves…hockey.”
“He like the Dragons?”
“He…loves…them.”
“He know your big bro slash best friend slash stamp of approval holder is the head coach?” His mirth has me desperately trying to fake my own. “That why we still haven’t met?”
“He knows,” I quietly confess. “And you’ll meet soon enough.”
“Tonight, would’ve been perfect, aye?” The playful poke swells a lump of sadness in my throat. “Where’s he taking you out for dinner?”
“Why…?” skeptically leaves me. “So, you can know if you’ve got spies in the area to report back to you?”
“Well, you won’t tell me shit!”
“I tell you shit all the time!”
